Treading the Dawn
by NZtoadie
Summary: We know that the Narnians were brutally massacred and almost wiped out during the Telmarine invasion, but what if 1300 years later, there were repercussions, not just in Narnia but in our world too? Take's place after the Prince Caspian movie but before Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

Sara wondered to herself if this rain was normal for a British Autumn. It lashed down onto the grey Oxford street, sending tourists scuttling to find cover under overhangs or ducking into shops and cafes. Sara, cursing herself for not bothering with her raincoat when she had left her B&B that morning, pulled up the hood on her hoodie and scuttled in the direction of her accommodation.

A small pub caught her attention on her left, and she quickly entered, giving a small sigh of relief as she did so.

It was a curious pub, all old, dark brown wood beams with a small room immediately on the left and right, the bar was beyond these to the right and beyond that appeared to be another small room.

Squeezing her way through the throng of the usual American tourists, Sara ordered herself half a lager before wondering into the small room ahead of her in search of a seat. Above the doorway was a bronze plaque that read 'rabbit room' which made her smile.

Being the size it was it only had room for two benches on the left which were already occupied, the large open fire place, and a snug little table for two which was occupied by an old fashioned gentlemen in an old brown tweed suit, nursing a handle pint of dark ale and -looking totally out of place- an old fashioned pipe lay dormant next to his pint.

Sara turned to try her luck in another part of the bar but turned back when she heard a friendly voice address her

"Sit down and keep an old professor company – there's room for two".

Knowing that she wasn't going to find much better in the crowded pub, Sara sat down and smiled, holding her hand out,

"My name's Sara".

The man smiled and shook her hand "Jack – pleased to meet you young lady". Smiling he added, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Sara smiled "No – I'm from New Zealand".

Jack leaned back, absent-mindedly picking up his unlit pipe and taking a puff "Ahh, the Antipodes. What brings you all the way across the world to Oxford ?".

Sara studied her half-lager for a few seconds and shrugged "Oh the usual – the big overseas experience and all that. Do you come from Oxford Jack?".

He nodded "Yes I do. I am a professor at one of the universities and in my spare time I write books".

That piqued Sara's interest "Really? What type of books?"

Jack smiled, his eyes twinkling "Some would call them children's stories, others fantasy. I prefer to think of myself as one who is chronicling others stories about hope and above all – faith".

Sara looked into his friendly eyes "Are you writing one now?"

He took another puff on his pipe and leaned back against the wall "It is being written at this minute. Tell me Sara, what was it like growing up in New Zealand?".

Sara shrugged and took a sip of her lager. "My parents moved to New Zealand when I was six. I was lucky I guess, I grew up on a farm, had my own horse and as much outdoor space to roam as any kid would wish for, but it never felt like 'home'. It's hard to explain".

"Were your parents English then?"

Sara nodded "Actually, I'm adopted. I was found abandoned on the steps of Oxford's Police station when I was two. That's the reason why I'm here I guess, I guess I'm hoping for a clue as to who my real parents were."

Jack gave her a wistful smile. "Everybody's story gets told to them when it is time".

Wondering why she was telling a stranger in a pub all this, Sara once again shrugged. "Maybe".

Excusing herself, Sara pushed her way through to the bathroom, annoyed at herself for being so candid to the friendly professor.

However on her return she found the professor gone, only what was left of Sara's drink was still there, and where Jack's pint had been glittered gold. Staring at it, she found it to be a gold chain and on the gold chain was a gold rampant lion with a single red ruby where it's eye should have been.

A strong wave of deja-vu swept over Sara and hesitantly she put her hand out and picked the chain up. The instant she did a dream – the one she had been having ever since she could remember rushed to her – fleeting images and feelings of despair and terror flooded her but there was also love, stronger than anything else and cancelling the others out.

Gently placing the chain around her neck, Sara turned around and left the Pub, as she passed the bar she thought she should do the right thing and pass the necklace over to the bar-staff in-case Jack came back looking for it – but she kept on walking out onto the street and into the rain.

The streets by now were sodden, drains flooding and cars sending up showers of water. Hurrying with her hood up, head down out of the rain Sara realised that it must be rush-hour, and it was because of the noise of the rush-hour traffic, the showers of water and the pounding of the rain that Sara never heard the cries and shouts of warning as the blue Honda-Civic mounted the pavement heading straight for her.

A split second of panic was all she had before the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The first thing Sara became aware off was the warmth of sunlight on her face and the sound of birds. Opening her eyes she slowly sat up.

Instead of the busy street and people clustered around asking about her welfare as she expected, she found her self surrounded by trees and the noise of a forest. Her face in a mask of dis-belief, Sara got to her feet, groaning as she became aware of the one big ache that was her body.

For a few minutes Sara stood staring at her surroundings, her mind racing, trying to collect her thoughts together.

Maybe with the impact of the car she had been thrown into someone's garden?. Maybe she was unconscious and dreaming?

Or even dead?.

But Sara knew none of these answers were correct. Instead she did the only logical thing she could – she started walking.

Sara judged it to be early autumn, the leaves on the tree's were starting to turn and even though the sun was at it's highest, there was a slight chill in the air. The wood was green and full of life, reminding Sara briefly of the woodland in New Zealand.

After walking for twenty minutes or so Sara came to a stream and, suddenly realising she was thirsty, she knelt down to drink.

She had only had a few sips of the cool stream water when she heard the sound of hooves on the forest floor and as she looked up a bay horse, fully saddled and bridled but with no rider, walked out from the trees to take a drink from the stream.

Slowly Sara got to her feet and started slowly walking towards it so as not to scare it.

"Hello you, where did you come from?" she asked quietly and gently. Taking no notice of her, the horse carried on drinking. Gently stroking it's neck, Sara came to the conclusion that it must have thrown it's rider.

Noticing a saddlebag behind it's saddle, Sara undid the buckle and started to look through it, looking for a clue as to who the horse might belong to.

"What do you think you are doing thief?" came a gruff, angry voice.

Sara jumped in surprise and looked up. Two dark skinned men stood a little way off – dressed in what looked to Sara as clothing straight from Arabian Knights and carrying unsheathed curved scimitars.

"Oh no I wasn't, I was just-"

"We know a grubby thief when we see one – trying to steal from a Tarkaan's saddlebags. Let's see what he says".

"Please – I wasn't – I'm not a thief!" Before she could think the two men were suddenly before her and her two hands were roughly bound in front of her, with one of the strongly smelling men keeping a hold of the end of rope.

"Listen to me! I am not a thief! I found the horse and I was just looking through the saddlebag to see if I could find it's owner! I am not a bloody thief!".

Sara didn't like the way the one with the rope would occasionally turn around and leer at her before saying something to his companion who was leading the horse.

They would both then laugh crudely.

"ARE YOU BOTH DEAF OR SOMETHING?" Sara was starting to loose her patients.

"If you're not deaf then you both must be just stupid!"

At this the man leading the horse stopped and Sara suddenly found a dirty piece of cloth being thrust roughly into her mouth.

After being roughly dragged and pulled through the forest for a while they came to a road that, judging by the wheel marks and trodden earth, was a well used road, and presently they came to a clearing where there appeared to be a large group of people milling around one central figure – a squat, dark fat man with a long red beard lounging on a richly cushioned chair.#

Like everyone else he was dressed like an Arabian Knight only more richly so, with a deep purple turban and layers of garishly coloured and embroidered clothes.

Sara was pulled through the throng and was pushed roughly to the ground. She glared at her two captors.

"My Lord, we caught this filthy thief, not only was she preparing to steal your horse, but she was already lusting over the contents of our lord Tarkaan's saddle bags!"

For a few minutes the fat lord looked at Sara like she was something clinging to his shoe but suddenly his mood appeared to change. With a look of thought and amusement on his face, and with some huffing and puffing, he stood up a came to stand in front of Sara, looking her up and down, reminding her of someone looking at a cattle at a market. Sara suddenly felt very uneasy.

"If you were in my country you would be whipped and loose either a hand or an eye- or both – depending on my countenance. However that does seem a waste, having a barbarian slave in my horse would be a boon indeed. However -" he gave a resigned sigh "We are not in my land, instead we are in this accursed land of Narnia – sent by the Tisroc himself (may he live forever), inhabited by demons and ruled over by a barbarian king . I suppose you had better be judged by him and his law. Lets see what it has to say."

With a wave of a pudgy hand Sara's gag was undone. Sara's mouth tingled after the tightness of the gag.

"I found the horse and was just looking to see who it belonged too, that's all".

The fat man frowned.

"Do you often go through the belongings of those better than you?"

"How many times do I have to repeat myself – I AM NOT A THIEF!"

"You insolent slut! How dare you speak to someone from the noble house of Tash like that!"

Sara saw the butt of a spear before unconsciousness.


End file.
